Welcome, all! I am Yulo Queren, owner and Captain of the Hollen's Prize. She's a fine ship. An older model but in excellent condition, recently retrofitted after some lucrative runs.

It is a tradition of mine to take the crew out for dinner and drinks the evening before departure. I invite you all to the Scorched Haglin at 1800 hours tonight, station time, where we shall all have a chance to become acquainted. I'm sure you have many questions and I shall endeavor to answer them at that time.

Autumn paused as the simple invitation flickered on her data slate, slapping the side of it to stabilize the image once more and growling softly at the machine, until properly intimated it returned to a semblance of working order.

Tilting her head to the side she read the message and tried to recall what she knew about the place before deciding it didn't much matter. If the local rumors held true, this Queren fellow wouldn't be able to afford a expensive dinner anywhere with a dress code anyway.

Sniffing at the slightly damp air Autumn smiled, it'd be nice to have a proper sit down meal for a change, it seemed lately all she'd been living off of was ration packs and the odd take out meal since arriving here.

The wristcomp's screen came alive, the machine alerting her through the neural interface, a simple specific tactile sension delivered through the ulnar nerve.It looked that she did indeed receive the position of the ship's doctor.The advert required a person with basic medical training; a mediocre nurse who could stitch a wound would have been enough; Queren would not have been able to lure anyone better than a med student with the pay anyway. In fact, she downplayed her credentials to avoid appearing vastly over-qualified and hence suspicious.

Helia gave a heads up to Cassie, and the cat leapt up from the comford of her robe's folds, and proceeded to rest on top of her luggage instead. Truth be said, the medic could not get used to the woolen garment - but it was supposed to be temporary anyway, the undyed natural fabric and outdated style meant to make her appear to be from some backwater world. With the hood, the masses would not even link her race's distinguishing marks instantly with the footage from a war zone. True, the fighting had stopped, but the imagery was still vivid in the general populace.

She proceeded to pull her trolley with the luggage towards the meeting point. "You could walk for once, couldn't you?" she jived. Cassie just purred and nestled deeper into the bags.

***

Ten minutes before the agreed time, she entered the Scorched Haglin."Captain Queren's table, please."The waiter pointed dispassionately towards their reservation, and Helia checked the surroundings.

The table was near to an emergency exit, with clear view of the entrance. Good.

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Jerome first became aware of the flashing light on his compad, sitting on the table by his head. He was not sure how long it have been flashing, but it was best he check it.

Ah, he had gotten the job, and a free dinner to boot.

Scorched Haglin.

Well, maybe he would be picking up the drinks at least. He hoped certain regulars would not be there tonight - he didn't want any trouble with his new employer - he really needed the money.

A few minutes allowed Jerome to pull himself together, though the aftereffects of the prior night were still evident. No matter, he tidied up his room, checked his pistol and proceeded out to the 'Hag.

Quan read the message a second time, just to make sure. Dinner! And drinks! It had been a long time since he'd worked for someone who went out of the way for such niceities. Most of the jobs he took these days were corporate runs, just check in, dock it, check out without seeing so much as a smile out of anyone.

But dinner and drinks! He chortled in his pitch-dark cabin, checking his chrono. The set time wasn't far off - not enough time to go out and buy something new to show off to this Captain Queren - but far enough to get ready.

He took some time in selecting the right clothes: the gray shirt that was light enough to look decent but rough enough to be purposeful; the dark green pants, with pockets big enough to be toolboxes, which made him look practical while contrasting with just the right shade against his purple skin; and the nicest jacket he owned, "nice" here being defined in the loosest sense, but it wasn't much wrinkled and the iridescent silvery black was pleasing to the eye. It took at least ten minutes to pick the right lenses. Quan was going to pick the goggle pair with the elastic strap so he would look utilitarian and business-like. But then he switched to the more stylish spectacle pair, which looked like a thing to show you were classy enough to wear them ironically rather than out of need. Then he switched back, then twice more before settling on the specs.

He put the specs on last, just before turning the standard lights on in the room. He blinked in the mirror as his eyes adjusted and grinned sheepishly at what looked back. "Captain Yulo Queren!" he said with a glare. "Quan, pilot and astronav! All systems ready, sir!" He shook his head and laughed at his joke before opening the door and heading out to the Scorched Haglin.

Autumn fixed the drunkard with a pointed stare, the barest hints of her pearlescent fangs visible behind her curled lips. "Not my profession drifter, perhaps you should try the vixens near the ship docks."

A quick survey of the nearly abandoned corridor showed it mostly empty, the only points of interest the Haglin's emergency exit, a cracked plasti-crete air vent cover hanging by a single twisted screw on the far wall from it, and one inebriatied local who had sorely mistaken her identity.

Satisfied the area was suitable she spun about and headed into the establishment, pausing long enough to locate the appropriate table from a nearby employee. "Secure the exits of any place before you enter." Old advice that had kept her alive on Black Water station, and served her well ever since; some may call it paranoia, she called it situational awareness.

It seemed another was already at the table, strikingly beautiful as well for a human from what she could make out under the folds of her hood. Queren's girlfriend perhaps? No, such rim world captains often had mates that were rougher around the edges, this one seemed to be a traveler, perhaps a religious savior judging by her off white robe. One of many such types who frequented the rim, promising spiritual salvation for a fist full of credit chits.

Giving a brief nod to the lady Autumn set down next to her, placing her back firmly against the wall and subtly unsnapping the holster fasten to the hand cannon secured on her right hip as she adjusted her one-piece thigh length maroon dress.

Leaning forward slightly she gently sniffed at the woman, taking in her scent for a moment before she spoke, as was proper when greeting new people. She voiced a simple greeting, keeping her tone low and soft, the faint drifter station accent still visible depsite all her years away from Black Water station. "I am Autumn Shadow, Captain Queren has sought my services as ship mechanic and leverage provider, a pleasure to share territory and sustenance with you this eve."

Cassandra's fur rose in alarm as the uplifted hound approached, but Helia's tendril wrapped around hers and calmed her through a few choice thoughts. "No threat now, I am here, you're awesome and could get away anytime..."The cat calmed, though Helia held her needler pistol in the folds of her robe, waiting how the encounter would turn out.

Truth be said, she liked animal morphs, therians and uplifted beasts - there was so much potential in Earth's native life, so why not help it?

The newcomer seemed rough, but not shifty; Helia had seen her share of con men, scoundrels, mafiosi and slavers during her time off-world. She had shot or bitten a few of them.

Flashing the hound morph a cautious friendly smile, she proceeded to introduce herself: "Pleased to meet you, I am ..."Bugger - she almost said her real name, then corrected herself: "... Sunny, Sunny Greene, and I'll be your ... med tech on this trip." And perhaps others - Helia would love to spend the next few years flying hence and forth over the Rim.

Almost reaching out with the hand holding the pistol, she gave and awkward smile, offering her left for a handshake.

« Last Edit: July 17, 2011, 02:35:52 AM by EchoMirage »

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Autumn smiled broadly upon hearing the lady was to be the ships med-tech rather then a preacher out to covert the passengers to some archaic belief system. She absent mindedly ran her tongue over her well cared for teeth, thoughts momentarily drifting to dinner as the woman paused in her speech, as if she was unused to giving her name.

No matter she thought, such healers were probably used to being called "doctor" rather then anything less formal. Reaching out Autumn gently took the Sunny's hand in her paw, careful not to scrape her duranium cyber claws across the woman's silken smooth skin.

"An interesting name for one who travels the blackness between the stars, may the rest of our companions prove so agreeable." Her nose twitched as she caught another scent, something less tame then the female before her, vaguely predatory but with a tang of fear mingled with in. Perhaps the scent of the her mate, or her most recent companion, although fear usually did not accompany such closeness.

Leaning back Autumn eyed the menu with interest, grateful for the opportunity to order without concern for price or portion, it had been far too long since she had enjoyed fresh meat and she aimed to take full advantage of the situation.

Quan hummed quietly to himself as he sauntered to the bar of the Scorched Haglin, three fingers of each hand stuck into pockets with the thumb hanging out. It only now occurred to him that he'd never met Captain Queren, at least face-to-face. Standing near a bar stool, he peered around the eatery. It was the kind of place Quan favored: not some brand new corp chain with shining self-cleaning tables, but a place dirty enough to feel like home. The patron were all armed, it seemed, which wasn't terribly unusual; he too had come prepared, Betty sitting near and pretty in her holster at his hip. He rapped a knuckle against the cheap-looking bar. "Two Quantum Sours, pal," he said to the bartender, "one for myself and one for the good Captain Queren." He leaned his head in a bit. "By the by, have you seen the captain around lately? We have a dinner date tonight. Business stuff, y'know?"

Tall and lanky, with gaunt cheeks, a mop of unruly blond hair, and disproportionately large hands, he stood there awkwardly looking around. He called out to a passing waitress, too quiet for the reptilian Hessta to hear. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Uh, excuse me. I'm looking for Captain Queren."

She pointed toward the corner.

He wandered over. Neither of the two sitting at the table looked like the Captain, whose image he'd lifted off of the port computers as soon as he knew he had the computer and electronics job. He looked them over, leered a little at the furry one before catching himself and looking away.

Without a word, he sat down at the opposite end, slouching in his seat; grabbed up a menu and buried his face in it.

Autumn looked up at the new arrival, realizing quickly from his lack of greeting the was clearly not the captain, unless Queren was painfully short of manners that is.

In a similar greeting to lady Greene's she leaned forward and inhaled the mans scent, curious, but cautious none the less. Sweat, metal, and a hint of ozone, someone who was no stranger to a hard cycles work at any rate.

She leaned back, cast a questioning glace over at Sunny, eyed the new comer one last time and returned to her menu, seeing little reason to distract the man from his focus on sampling the potential delights of the kitchen.

Autumn twitched a ear at the term landlubber, it was one of those phrases usually associated with back water colony civvies and those who'd never set foot on a star ship before; bad traits for a vessels primary physician.

"I used to work for Jacques, on the Lucky Strike, a shrewd business man but as intimidating as a three month old cub; poor guy was always getting in over his head," She paused long enough to key a few appetizer selections into the menu pad before continuing.

"There was one time we were out on the rim, light years from anywhere, escorting this scientist from a low grav world, the man, or woman, never could tell its gender, stood close to eight feet tall and skinny as a waste recycling pipe, always smelled of chemicals too."

She paused in her tale as she noticed a small furred creature slinking below the tables a short distance away, seeming to have originated from beneath this woman's robes earlier.

"Pardon the observation, but your young one seems to have slipped away, and could perhaps unexpectedly wind up on the dinner menu if her proximity to the kitchen diminishes any further." She gestured toward Cassie with a single claw, feeling it best to warn this self defined land lubber of the dangers a rim world station often posed to stray animals and children.

"It's her own risk to take - she has been lectured on dangers of space stations, and is used to something trying to eat her" Helia turned to the menu, then back to Autumn: "She wouldn't obey me in this case, I guess - too much to explore. I just hope she does not steal anything."

She tapped a few items into the menu pad - ones that were the least likely to be spoiled: a canned beverage (Phaser Fizz, no less), thoroughly roasted meat, bread, local hydroponic vegetables. Riding towards the rim in a variety of vessels, she learned to be wary of spacer cuisine - the hard way.

Going over the fish section, she burst out in a chuckle: "Whom am I fooling - she will steal something."

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

Autumn inwardly cringed at the thought of another tavern brawl, the last one she was in left a literal slimy taste in her mouth for days. No matter, it was no longer any of her affair, the law of the wild applied equally in rim world stations as it did on unexplored planets.

More curious was the nonchalance this medic treated the starport cantina was different then the wide eyed wonder most surface dwellers greeted every new sight and sound.

"For a land lubber you seem at home in this establishment, more so then most planet-siders, grow up on the fringe by chance?"

Quan smiled, flashing bright white teeth at the woman. "Thanks," he said. "You can bill these to my table." Drinks in hand, he swaggered over to where he'd seen the human sit down next to two other beings whose species he didn't recognize.

His mouth grew into a toothy smile again as he slid into the chair next to Jarven. "Evenin', folks!" he said cheerfully, iridescent red eyes flashing from behind the dark glasses. "You guys gonna be crewing the Hollen's Prize?" None of them looked particularly captainy - the one seemed to be too female, another too canine, and the last too shy. He placed the two drinks in front of himself and grabbed the menu. "Sure'n Captain Queren will be here any minute now." He slid his finger down the menu's browser, counting. "Number 18," he smiled, punching in the order. He looked up at the others. "I always order the eighteenth item on the menu. Always puts you just past the appetizers and into the good meal territory." He squinted again at the menu. "Although I'm not quite sure what that one was. Probably good, though."

He looked about for a second, still smiling. "Quan, by the by," he said, pointing to his chest to make sure the point was clear. "Pilot and astronav."

Autumn smiled warmly at the new comer, her pink tongue lolling to the side as she did so, his friendly and boisterous demeanor marking him as a pilot well before he had the opportunity to do so himself.

"I'm Autumn, ships mechanic and leverage provider, I'll be making sure your ride has the extra punch when you need it, and doesn't fall apart at an inopportune moment." She inhaled deeply trying to catch the mans scent, but found the sour tang of his drinks all but obscured his natural odor. No matter, time enough for further familiarity once on board.

"I do believe number 18 is grilled skale with a side of swamp tubers in flan sauce, or recycled grue, hard to tell really." She added offhandedly, hoping her own order of raw gobber legs would be served properly chilled, and without too much spice.

"The surroundings have a fairly low information content and their stimulation value is limited - hence I am at peace" came Helia's reply, just as Quan barged in.Indeed, a bar at a spaceport was far less busy than the forests of her homeworld, or a hospital, or the lab... or a war zone, for all that mattered."And yes, you could call me a fringer." She swallowed a sarcastic addition... "How lucky we are run by the Core now!" she thought bitterly.

"Welcome, Quan" Helia greeted the newcomer bashfully, painstakingly tring to judge his mood. Truth be said, she was woefully bad at reading males.Yes, he smiled - but was that smile friendly, aggressive, or a challenge?"You can call me Sunny, and I shall be your doctor on this flight. Med tech, I meant med tech..."

« Last Edit: July 17, 2011, 05:10:04 PM by EchoMirage »

Logged

"Captain, the buttocks are moving from the pink into the red and purple spectrum! We cannot maintain this rate of spanking any longer!"

It is easy to tell when Yulo Queren enters the pub. He is a large man, both in body and in spirit, and quickly fills the room with his presence.

He is big boned and may have been muscular when he was younger (he appears to be in his 40's now) but much of that has turned to fat. He has a round face with full cheeks, dark, short-cropped hair, small brown eyes, a round belly, and meaty forearms. His long coat is a deep purplish-brown leather. As he strides forward it is possible to see the butt of a hand cannon at his right hip and the hilt of a kukri at his left.

The waitress H'lassta rushes up to him.

"Welcome Yulo! Your table is ready for you. Right this way."

With confident, ground-eating strides he approaches the table. His gaze wanders from person to person, looking each in the eye briefly.

"Greetings!" he says, spreading his arms wide. "I am Yulo Queren, Captain of the Hollen's Prize. I only count four of you so far, but please introduce yourselves. I find you can tell more about a being in person than through comm.

"Oh, and before you order, I highly recommend the Scorched Haglin. You won't find it on the menu, kind of a local secret. It's a dish the Hessta make on the planet from a reptile with a d**nably dense skin. You have to torch the whole carcass to cook the meat inside. It looks a fright when you first see it, but crack it open and I guarantee you it is the most tender, sweetest meat you'll ever taste."

Quan's smile became impossibly wide and toothy, as though some dentist had pried it open for surgery. "Captain Queren, it is a pleasure, sir!" he said shaking Yulo's meaty hand with his own four-fingered one. "I'm Quan, of course, your man behind the stick." He grabbed the drink he hadn't sipped from and placed it forcefully in front of the captain. "'Fraid I already ordered the Number Eighteen, but the Quantum Sour's fine." He raised his own glass and tilted it a bit, the luminescent orange liquor just touching the rim. "I am grandly looking forward to this run, Captain. Haven't seen a crew this fine in years. So to our success!" He swung back a mouthful of the Quantum Sour and returned to his grinning.

"I've already ordered, my tastes run more towards the uncooked end of the palette." She slid forward on the seat slightly, taking in his girth with mild amusement, with a captain this rotund at least the meals on board were sure to be edible.

His odor revealed little beyond a cheap cologne, and the sweetness of adrenaline, that pre-launch excitement she was used to from men in his position, those who anticipated big payoffs and more then a little risk along the way. "Autumn Shadow, your mechanic and leverage provider, where appropriate." It was the same greeting she'd recited twice before now, but it seemed honest enough and straightforward, so she gave little thought to changing its context.

Jerome cursed again as the Haglin came in sight. Figures he would get jumped before dinner. His knuckle had been skinned but otherwise it went as well as could be expected.

I can't get off this station too soon, if I haven't already lost my job.

He entered and scanned the place quickly and picked the captain out of the crowd - Quan's introduction serving the purpose well. No other faces rang alarm bells.

Jerome slid up to the remaining open seat, detesting his lateness.

"Jerome. Cargo tech and troubleshooter at your service, Cap'n." He stopped himself from saluting. Looking at his potential crewmates, he said, "Sorry for the holdup. Met an old acquaintance who couldn't take a hint. I missed most of the introductions, but we can sort that out in due time."